


a lost lover in the darkest water

by AgentBuzzkill



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood pacts have long lasting effects okay, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Homebrew Spells, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Pining, Soul Bond, a bit of smut at the end, if you're into that sort of thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBuzzkill/pseuds/AgentBuzzkill
Summary: “You took quite a hit, liebling,” Caleb says, running a hand through Fjord’s hair. “Can you open your eyes?”Fjord groans again, raising a hand to rub at his eyes before opening them and blinking furiously. He looks up at Caleb. A strange shadow passes over his face and Caleb feels his stomach drop at the look in Fjord’s eyes.It’s the blank look of an enchantment taking root. But before Caleb can even react the shadow has passed, and with a few more blinks Fjord’s eyes look clear again.But he’s staring up at Caleb in total confusion.“Who’re you?”





	a lost lover in the darkest water

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851948) by [writeitininkorinblood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeitininkorinblood/pseuds/writeitininkorinblood). 



> Additional warning at the end note. 
> 
> Title from Nathan Reich's "The Dream Song". 
> 
> SUPER big thanks to Amaronith for beta-ing and the whole Widofjord discord for being the best people in the world to bounce ideas off of.

“Fjord!”

Jester and Caleb are the ones to see him fall and are the first to rush to his side, kneeling down on either side of him. Jester immediately casts Cure Wounds as Caleb lifts Fjord’s head up into his lap. The spell just seemed to knock him off his feet, which would be more of a relief if Fjord would open up his eyes.

“He’s breathing,” Jester says more to herself than anyone else, “and he isn’t bleeding. Why won’t he wake up?”

She gives Fjord a strong slap right across his face. Fjord stirs, brows furrowing before he tries to sit up with a groan.

“No, no,” Jester says, a hand pushing him back down. “Calm down.”

“You took quite a hit, _liebling_ ,” Caleb says, running a hand through Fjord’s hair. “Can you open your eyes?”

Fjord groans again, raising a hand to rub at his eyes before opening them and blinking furiously. He looks up at Caleb. A strange shadow passes over his face and Caleb feels his stomach drop at the look in Fjord’s eyes.

It’s the blank look of an enchantment taking root. But before Caleb can even react the shadow has passed, and with a few more blinks Fjord’s eyes look clear again.

But he’s staring up at Caleb in total confusion.

“Who’re you?”

Caleb’s heart stutters in his chest. Oh no. Gods, no, anything but this.

“That’s not very funny, Fjord,” Jester says with a frown. He looks at her, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to try and find the right words.

“Jester? What happened?”

Oh _no._

Caleb stands, and luckily Jester’s reflexes are quick enough to catch the back of Fjord’s head before it can hit the ground. The others are gathering around, still licking their wounds from the fight, their expressions all caught in different states of concern. Caduceus bends down to help Fjord to his feet, allowing Fjord to lean on him as he sways a bit where he’s standing and looks to his friends. He seems to take stock of everyone and the lack of recognition only seems to be there as he glances to Caleb for a moment. Caleb’s heart twists.

He turns and flees into the forest.

“Caleb!” Jester cries but he can’t focus on her. He can’t focus on anything but the nausea worming its way up from the bottom of his stomach.

He only stops running when he throws up, clutching a tree to keep himself upright. His knees shake. Tears run down his face. And when it’s done he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

(The same hand Fjord had held just hours ago, as Caleb scouted ahead of them through Frumpkin’s eyes. It was always a strange sensation, feeling the weightlessness of flight even as Fjord’s thumb stroked the back of his hand and kept him grounded.)

He stumbles away a few feet, careful to not land in his own sick as he sits down on the forest floor. He can hear the others calling for him and he presses his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Focus, Widogast. You’re no good to them like this._

He’s become better at talking himself down from panic, but the worries are all there. They bubble up to the surface of his mind and choke him with anxiety. Fjord’s mind...the hag had done something to his mind. To his memories. To his memories of _Caleb_ and gods above what could he even do?

_You know better than anyone that memory charms can be reversed._

And what if this is one that can’t?

 _You will not give up. Fuck your worries and think of him. What would_ he _tell you to do?_

He doesn’t even know my name anymore-

_And he never will again if you don’t get a fucking grip on yourself._

I wouldn’t even know where to begin to dispell this kind of magic. My books will not help, the nearest town is not for another few days of travel.

_There’s a solution. There always is._

There always is.

Small hands cover his own and he opens his eyes to see Nott standing in front of him. Her eyes are wide as saucers, mouth twisted into a frown. He feels as guilty as always for worrying her. She’s far too used to dealing with him in this kind of state and he knows he’ll never truly be able to repay her for all of her patience.

“-aleb?” He hears as she eases his hands down off of his ears. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Caleb!” he hears Jester’s distant shout. “Come back! Fjord needs help!”

He shakes his head, looking miserably up at Nott.

“There is nothing I can do.”

“What’s going _on?_ ” She asks, gripping his shoulders and giving him a little shake.

“Memory charm,” Caleb says and Nott’s expression drops from worry and panic to grim realization.

“But you can fix this-”

“I can’t,” Caleb says, eyes squeezing shut again at another wave of nausea. “Not without taking extreme risks. We need to take him to the nearest town. To a more experienced healer.”

Not that he didn’t have faith in Caduceus and Jester, but the mind was a delicate thing to mess with. And Caleb had his own selfish reasons for making sure all of Fjord’s memories were safely returned to him.

If they could be.

“We’ve gotta get back to the others,” Nott says. “Are you okay?”

 _No_ , Caleb thinks. _The man who said he loved me last night doesn’t even know who I am._

“Hardly,” is what he says instead before shakily getting to his feet.

 

* * *

 

Nott helps lead him back to the group and Caleb feels as if he is in a daze. The last hour of his life feels like a nightmare and he keeps clenching his fists, digging blunt nails into palms and hoping that he wakes up soon.

They surround him when he and Nott enter the clearing, a barrage of questions being hurled at him. Jester wants to know if he’s okay and Beau wants to know what happened and Caduceus wants to know what he can do to help and Fjord--

Fjord isn’t there.

 _Of course he isn’t_ , the wicked voice in the back of Caleb’s head says. _You’re a stranger to him now. He doesn’t care for you the way he once did._

Nott does her best to get the others to back up, yelling at them to give him room to breathe. Caleb runs a hand over his face before looking up, gaze flicking back and forth between his companions.

“I do not believe any of us possess the magics capable enough to undo this. We need to get to the nearest town as soon as possible and get him under the care of someone who has seen this before.” He wrings his hands, picking at a loose thread on his glove. “At the very least I need to be able to research this, and there are no libraries in the middle of the woods.”

Just over Beau’s shoulder he can see Fjord standing by their wagon. He has his arms crossed over his chest, and with the way his jaw is moving Caleb can tell he’s running his tongue over the stumps where his tusks once were. A nervous habit. There’s a lost look in his eyes as looks at their group.

Their eyes meet for a moment, but Fjord quickly looks away. He’s suddenly very interested in the current state of the ground under his boots.

“Caleb,” Beau says quietly, “are you...gonna be okay?”

He looks back to her. It was no secret that he and Fjord were romantically attached, certainly with how close they all lived to each other it wouldn’t have been possible to hide. Not that Fjord had ever wanted them to try to hide it. Caleb had been on the fence about it, but Fjord--

_“Trust me,” he whispers and Caleb looks at him, eyebrow raised._

_“With what?” Caleb asks but Fjord’s already taken his hand. A slight blush rises, warming Caleb’s face as he glances to their companions. But none of them seem to be paying them any mind as they head up the road._

_“Caleb!” Jester exclaims a few minutes later when she looks up from her notebook. “Fjord! You’re…?”_

_Fjord nods and she gives a little cheer, clapping._

_“I knew it! I mean I thought I knew it. I mean I knew it would happen eventually!”_

_She scrambles from one side of the wagon to the other, scooting in close to Caleb’s side._

_“Tell me_ everything. _"_  

_“Lay off them,” Beau says with a smile, glancing between Caleb and Fjord. “But seriously, it’s about time you two stopped dancing around each other.”_

_The others agree and Fjord gives Caleb’s hand a squeeze. Relief rushes through him. He can’t help the giddy smile that stretches across his lips as he glances up and Fjord-_

“Caleb?” Beau tries again, ripping him out of the memory. “Are you-”

“I will be fine,” Caleb says stiffly. “The sooner we get to town the better. We must get moving.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of their day’s journey passes in strained, awkward silence. Fjord sits up in the front of the wagon with Caduceus and Caleb tries his hardest to not stare at the back of Fjord’s head for the next five hours. He fails miserably. The others keep glancing at him and the pity in their eyes stings. 

When darkness falls they stop to set up camp for the night. Caleb gets to work setting up his bedroll and making a fire and resolutely ignoring that Fjord is setting up his own bed on the other side of their camp.

He begins the work of flipping through the books he keeps on his person, though he knows that none of them will be able to help. Every one of their pages is burned into his brain already. But it keeps him from focusing too much on the hard ground and how quickly Fjord offers to take first watch and how helpless he feels flipping through useless spells until frustration makes the sigils on the page blur together and he has to put the book down.

He holds Frumpkin close until drifting off into restless sleep, the ground harder and colder than it has ever been before.

 

* * *

 

Morning passes in a blur. Caleb wakes, head groggy. He eats what Jester places in his hands. He gives Frumpkin a scritch behind the ears. The others talk around him and their voices merge until they are a low buzzing in his ear. Indistinguishable and uninteresting until they begin to pack up their things and Nott sidles up next to him.  

“We’ve got three more days until the next town,” she says, picking Frumpkin up and hugging him close.

“I am aware,” Caleb says. “The sooner we get there, the better.”

“Are you…” She looks very unsure of herself. “I mean, do you… You’ve got a plan, right?”

“Get Fjord to a cleric,” he replies simply, turning his attention back to his bag that he’s packing. “It seems to me like the best option we have.”

“Well, yes,” Nott says carefully. “But what if.... What if the cleric can’t-”

“The cleric _will_ ,” Caleb insists because the alternative is too painful to bear. He stands, shouldering his pack and snapping his fingers. Frumpkin poofs out of Nott’s hands and up onto his shoulders.

“Caleb,” Nott starts in a tone that is careful and stern and so motherly that it nearly opens old wounds in Caleb’s heart.

“Please,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and running a hand over his face. “I will...consider other options. If it will put you at ease.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied but she nods anyway.

“Whatever you need to do, I’ll back you up.”

While Caleb appreciates the sentiment more than she could ever know, he desperately hopes it doesn’t come to that point.

“-and then she made a run for it.”

He catches the tail-end of Beau’s sentence as he makes his way over to their cart.

“Yeah,” Jester says. “She just kinda knocked Fjord over and ran off.”

“Do you remember anything from yesterday, Fjord?” Caduceus asks and Fjord looks extremely uncomfortable under the gazes that all turn to him. He scratches at the back of his neck as he tosses his pack into the cart.

“Bits’n pieces,” he says. “But not really. What was it that...got me?”

“A hag,” Jester replies with a frown. “We managed to catch her, but...”

“She wouldn’t tell us what she did,” Beau says. “We couldn’t waste time and risk her getting away.”

“I’m not sure she would have wanted to help us anyway,” Caduceus admits.

“Not the most reassuring thing you’ve ever said, Deucy,” Nott mutters.

“So what _do_ you remember?” Jester asks.

“Not much of the mornin’,” Fjord admits. “Afternoon’s pretty hazy too. There’s just...gaps. In all of it.” He looks even more uncomfortable now. “Long chunks of time where I don’t know what I even did.”

But Caleb knows.

_Fjord, holding him close as day broke around them. Dawn is soft and sleepy and Caleb isn’t quite ready to start the day yet, though he knows it’s only a matter of time before the others wake up._

_“We’ll need to get up soon,” Caleb says and he feels Fjord’s lips against the back of his neck._

_“Five more minutes,” he murmurs. “You’re warm.”_

_“I am always warm.”_

_“‘Nother reason why I love you,” Fjord says before pressing a kiss to his skin._

He feels a hand grabbing his and squeezing and looks down to see Nott standing next to him, concern in her wide eyes.

He gives her hand a little squeeze in response, trying to reassure her that he’s okay. As long as they can fix this, he’ll be okay.

 

* * *

 

“You good?” he hears Beau say and Caleb nods, soaring over the trees through Frumpkin’s eyes. 

He spends the better part of the day scouting ahead, only stopping when told it’s time to eat. Even then he feels there’s better things he could be doing. He’s a bit out of practice with repressing his feelings, used to opening up to others far more than he’d been in a very long time, but he thinks he’s doing a decent job at pretending that everything is fine.

While he appreciates Beau’s arm around him, keeping him steady and aware of his surroundings, he still misses the feeling of Fjord’s hands around his.

It was never something that had ever occurred to him before, but the loss of Fjord at his side has forced Caleb to assess the degree to which he and Fjord orbited each other. It had been obvious in their honeymoon phase, when they preferred to always be within arm’s reach. But even after the initial giddiness of new love had faded, their tendency to stick together remained.

When Fjord moved, Caleb moved. It was just what they did.

Caleb didn’t know what to blame the connection on; the fact that their feelings were so strong, that they tuned into each other perfectly. It was almost stupidly romantic, and Caleb was embarrassed that he hadn’t found a more logical answer. But how else did he explain that when Fjord was happy, it was impossible for Caleb to not smile? How else did he explain the sensation of his anger consuming them both, fueling them in the heat of battle? How did he explain the tears shared between them, the joy, the heartache, the unspoken understanding that they empowered and magnified and completed each other?

How did he explain that all of the feelings they shared are gone now, and in their place is a gaping, bleeding wound punched into his chest? How did he explain the precipice he knew he dangled over, the overwhelming grief that would consume him if his other half wasn’t returned to him soon?

No, there was no logic to be found in that.

 

* * *

 

 

“-from the Feywild, I think,” he overhears Jester say that night as she and Fjord are on watch. Whispering was never her strong suit. Caleb stays stock-still, intent on appearing to still be asleep for as long as possible.

There’s the low murmur of Fjord’s voice, too quiet for Caleb to make out.

“Oh, no,” Jester says. “I don’t know where he got the name Frumpkin. He’s always told you more than us anyway.”

More mumuring.

“Of course you will, silly. I don’t even want to _think_ about what would happen if you didn’t. Poor Caleb would be so sad.”

...

“No, I just think...seeing you right now might be hard for him. You know, ‘cause he knows so many things. And you don’t. But you should try talking to him! It might cheer him up.”

Their conversation dies down after that. Caleb is glad, he has already heard far more than he intended.

 

* * *

 

The next day they’re set upon by bandits, because the world seems to think that Caleb Widogast has done nothing to deserve a goddamn break. 

After a few days of no action the Nein are more than ready for a bit of a scrap, and luckily their opponents are less than impressive. They don’t seem a very intimidating bunch, certainly no Iron Shepherds, and that’s at least one thing Caleb can be grateful for. Their only strategy seems to be rush forward and blindly attack, and everyone seems to have a good counter for whatever is thrown at them.

Which is why Caleb is almost embarrassed by the blow that one of the bandits manages to land to his head. It’s a sharp knock right to the temple, and he only sees black as he goes down.

He comes to with a sharp slap to the face, blinking up and utterly shocked to see Fjord leaning in over him.

“Are you alright?”

He’s panting hard, eyes wide in panic, and Caleb scrambles to sit up. Fjord’s hands stretch out, hovering, clearly unsure of how to help Caleb, and Caleb waves a hand dismissively as he looks around, quickly assessing what he missed.

The bandit that presumably struck him lays a few feet away, throat cut and sluggishly bleeding into the grass. With a grimace Caleb looks back at Fjord, about to thank him for his assistance before movement behind Fjord’s shoulder catches his eye.

It takes one quick motion, digging in his coat pocket for components he knows are there before lifting his hand and pointing just beyond Fjord’s shoulder.

With a whispered word, a fireball bursts forth and consumes the bandit.

Fjord initially flinches, dodging further out of the way from the fire and turning to see who it hit. Somehow his eyes have widened further as he looks back at Caleb.

“That...that was so cool!”

And oh. Of course. Fjord has no memory of his magic. Caleb is sure he must have known that, but the confirmation still hurts.

The others surround them, Caduceus helping him to his feet as Jester worries over a cut that had been left by the strike to his head. Blood runs sluggishly down the side of his face, but with a soft press of Jester’s hand to his cheek he can feel the bleeding slowly stop.

“You’ve gotta watch your back,” Beau says and Nott gives her a sharp slap to her arm.

“Ow!” Beau clutches her arm and glares down, looking ready to retaliate before Nott jerks her head to the side, trying to gesture toward Fjord without pointing.  
  
“What?” Beau asks, looking between Caleb and Fjord before her face slackens in understanding and remorse. “Oh,” she says softly. 

Fjord was traditionally the one who watched Caleb’s back, after all. The resounding silence between the group is awkward, and Caleb’s face burns. 

“I will keep my own safety in mind,” he says stiffly. “Can we please get back on the road now?”

“Not yet!” Nott cries before scurrying off. “These guys might have something good on them!”

“Doubt that,” Beau murmurs but she turns to follow Nott anyway.

“They weren’t very good bandits,” Caduceus admits, a thoughtful tone to his voice. “Come on, Mr. Caleb. Let’s get you back to the cart.”

While Caleb would consider himself perfectly steady enough on his feet to return to the cart by himself, Caduceus’s warm weight keeping him upright brings him more comfort than he’s felt in days and he greedily leans into it. The others busy themselves with looting bodies as he gets settled in the cart.

Well, everyone but Fjord.

Fjord is trying to do his best to look like he isn’t hovering, but the concerned looks he keeps giving Caleb as he wanders aimlessly around the cart tell a different story.

“Can I help you?” Caleb asks dryly, because having Fjord look like he really cares for him is beginning to poke at the dark wound deep in his chest that aches every time Fjord wanders too far away from him and he’d really rather not feel that way right now. It’s been a day already and it’s only noon.

Fjord glances away, looking embarrassed.

“No,” he says quickly. “I just...was uh. Glad. That you’re okay’n everything.”

Caleb nods slowly, still looking as if he’s waiting for Fjord to get to the point, but instead Fjord just climbs up into the cart and sits next to Caleb.

“Is this okay?” he asks and gods, what a loaded question.

On one hand, it’s more than okay. Caleb feels close to whole for the first time in days. It feels like he can breathe again, like something deep inside him isn’t constantly searching and pulling and calling out for a piece of him that he knows is missing.

On the other hand, not being able to curl up into Fjord’s side and rest his cheek against Fjord’s shoulder is agony.

“It is fine,” Caleb finally says, and Fjord seems to relax just a bit.

They sit in silence until the others join them in the cart and they’re able to continue on their way down the road.

That night, they set up camp in a small clearing just off the path they’ve been on for days. Jester is thrilled to discover that the river that winds through the forest they’ve been traveling through is near their camp, and she spends most of the evening sketching by the water before returning to the others to join in dinner. After eating, Caleb makes his own way down to the water.

It’s a peaceful spot. Far enough away that his friend’s conversations at their camp are barely audible, drowned out by the sound of water running over rock. It’s been a long while since Caleb had a bath, and he wants nothing more than to be able to take a dip in the water. River baths were inelegant, but sometimes a necessity if they’d been on the road for too long.

_Stolen kisses. Touches hidden under water. Fjord keeps him steady, washes his hair, helps clean the dirt from his face and laughs as Caleb shakes his wet hair out like a dog.--_

Focus, Widogast.

“You have one too?”

Caleb nearly jumps out of his own skin at the voice behind him that pulls him abruptly from his thoughts. He’s lucky he doesn’t fall into the river, but it very nearly happens as he slips on the rock, working to steady himself as he turns to see who snuck up on him.

“Oh, sorry!” Fjord says, stepping back, eyes wide and Caleb just tries to slow the suddenly frantic beating of his heart.

“You are fine,” he says, glancing away from Fjord’s face before they can make eye contact. “I just didn’t hear you.”

He does hear Fjord’s steps then as he hesitantly moves forward. One, two, then he stops.

“I, uh,” Fjord flounders with his words and the awkwardness between them tastes like bile in the back of Caleb’s throat. He can feel the emptiness in him, begging for someone who simply isn’t there anymore.

“Mind if I join you?” Fjord asks.

Caleb is about to get up and leave, but something holds him in place. He’s been avoiding this conversation for so long, it seems that his body is tired of putting up with his mind’s cowardice.

“Not at all,” he hears himself say, as if from a distance. It sounds like someone else’s voice.

He turns back to the water and Fjord sits down next to him. The scar on his palm itches and he scratches it absentmindedly, watching the slow twist of the current sparkle in the moonlight.

“So, um,” Fjord says, voice gruff. “Like I was sayin’. You uh. You have a scar there too?”

Caleb tenses up.

“I just, uh,” Fjord is scrambling to explain himself in a way he hasn’t had to around Caleb since they first met, and it’s painful for Caleb to listen to. “I just noticed. You keep scratchin’ at it.”

“I do,” Caleb agrees.

The silence stretches between them, taut and awkward.

“Where’d you get yours?” Fjord finally asks, and Caleb closes his eyes.

_A knife slashing through his palm. Slamming his hand down onto a blood-stained altar._

_Does he trust Fjord? Implicitly. He wouldn’t be down here if he didn’t. The power they could conquer, that they could_ share _\--_

_It’s an intoxicating idea._

_They meet, cut palm to cut palm, and Caleb’s center of gravity shifts._

“We got them together,” he finally says.

“Oh.” Fjord sounds troubled, and from the corner of his eye Caleb can see him looking down at his palm. “How-”

“It’s a long story,” Caleb interrupts, voice tight. “I would prefer it if you remembered it yourself.”

Fjord keeps looking at the scar on his palm as Caleb stares out, unseeing, into the water. There is a gnawing, raw need in him to be close to Fjord, as if every part of him were fighting to embrace him. He has to wrap his arms around himself to prevent his hands from reaching out. Because Fjord doesn’t know what they had. What they shared.

Their first kiss--

_A trembling press of lips. Both of them still running off a post-fight adrenaline high. The smell of salt and iron and ozone lingers in the air between them--_

Their first fight--

_“Are you saying you regret it?”_

_“Are_ you? _"_

_“Caleb-”_

_"Do not take that tone with me. I will not be condescended to-”_

All of their firsts--

_A shifting, swirling ball of light appearing from Fjord’s hand. Hours of study finally coming to fruition. It is only a cantrip but Caleb is so proud--_

_Fumbling hands in the darkness of their room. Soft touches and smiles against skin. They’ve both wanted this for so long--_

_Fjord pulling Caleb closer, face tucked in the crook of Caleb’s neck, and he thinks Fjord is asleep until he hears him murmur “I love you”--_

No. He doesn’t have the strength to pretend that none of that happened. To wipe the slate clean and start over? It’s inconceivable.

“I feel like,” Fjord says, breaking the silence, “there’s something nobody wants to tell me. About you.”

It’s the first time in days he’s spoken without any trepidation.

“About _us._ ” Fjord continues, prying for a reaction, and Caleb is determined to remain stone-faced.

“And I’m not gettin’ many answers. At least nothin’ that explains why I panic when I can’t see you.”

Caleb looks at him then, eyes wide, and Fjord continues.

“Or why there’s this big, numb...feelin’ in my chest. All the time. But then when I… When I’m here, next to you, it feels...better. Bearable.” He looks so confused and scared, all Caleb wants to do is comfort him. Everything inside him is screaming to make this better, to stop Fjord from looking so miserable, but it feels like the chasm between his other half and himself is only growing wider by the day.

“Having such strong feelings for a stranger would be unnerving,” Caleb says and Fjord shakes his head.

“But you’re not a stranger! I _know_ I should know you. But every time I think I do there’s this...block.” He winces a little. “Like a big stone wall that keeps me from going forward. And I can’t do anything to break it down.”

“We are getting close to town,” Caleb replies, doing his best to not reflect on Fjord’s words even as they dig into his brain. Fjord must take that as the end of the conversation, because even as frustration is evident on his face he stands and heads back to camp.

It’s somehow worse to realize that Fjord doesn’t know why he misses him, but maybe it also means the memories are still salvageable. And that’s the best news Caleb has heard in days. Still, there’s the problem of Fjord being in pain and Caleb instinctively placing that above everything else on his priority list.

Perhaps a backup plan wasn’t the worst thing to consider. Of course he would keep restoring Fjord’s memories as Plan A, but magic was unpredictable.

He needs time to research, and he knows that time is limited.

Caleb sits by the river long after Fjord leaves, clearly frustrated. He sits until he hears Nott calling for him, letting him know it’s time for him to take first watch.

 

* * *

 

Everyone seems happy that the next day is relatively uneventful. Caduceus sits up in the front of the wagon, joined by Nott as she plans a pub crawl that they’ll embark on the next time they’re in a big enough city for it. Caduceus, to his credit, politely nods along to everything she says. 

Caleb keeps up his job of scouting through Frumpkin. Beau keeps a hand on his shoulder, making sure he has a connection to the world around him. Jester is leaning against Fjord, her head against his shoulder, pointing out different things as he flips through her sketchbook, and Caleb has to stop the stab of envy that he feels at seeing that before shifting focus and seeing through the eyes of bird-Frumpkin.

“Civilization incoming,” Caduceus announces to them after nearly a full day of travel. Everyone perks up at that, and seeing buildings on the edge of the horizon makes all of them give a sigh of relief.

“Finally,” Beau mutters and Caleb enthusiastically agrees.

It’s just after sundown when they finally make it to the town, heading straight to the first temple they see. It’s a modest affair, as most smaller temples tended to be, and the symbol of a sun over the entrance advertises that it is dedicated to Pelor. A priestess greets them at the door, a slim elf with a proud stature and elegant pale yellow robes.

“I am sorry,” she says as they all immediately begin talking over each other. “The High Priestess has retired for the night.”

“But our friend-” Jester starts, indignant and pointing at Fjord, and the priestess holds a hand up.

“-appears to be able to wait another night before assistance,” she says, finishing Jester’s sentence for her. “You may come back at dawn, unless there is an emergency.”

Jester looks ready to keep arguing, but Caleb speaks up before she can.

“This is fine,” he says, and the others turn to him. Even Fjord looks perplexed.

“It’s _what?_ ” Beau hisses and Caleb shakes his head.

“We have been on the road all day. I need to see if any research can be done, and you need rest. She is right. We can wait.”

They all still seem stunned, but between the priestess standing in the doorway and Caleb giving in, they don’t have much choice but to head to the local inn. Caleb tosses Nott his portion of payment for the evening’s lodging and says he’ll catch up with them later in the evening.

He ends up having to bribe the librarian with five gold to get her to keep the place open for a few more hours. Caleb briefly mourns the books he won’t be able to buy with the money before beginning to work his way through the shelves. The library is small, the selection of arcane books even smaller, and for a while Caleb is convinced his evening is about to be nothing but fruitless searching and a waste of gold.

But then, in the very back of a shelf, a thin tome with a deep red cover. It’s embellished in silver, the designs along the spine simple but elegant.

 _Of Souls and Bonding_ , the title reads, and Caleb sits down to flip through the pages.

It tells of potent and powerful magics that could bind the bodies and souls of two people together. Some temporarily, some forever. Potions and item enchantments and rituals, all with different specifics. It mostly sounded to be the stuff of fairy stories, of myths that told of a perfect soulmate for everyone in the world. The kinds of things Caleb had admired as a child and scoffed at later as an adult. He’s about to put the book away, when a heading catches his attention.

**_Blood: A Powerful Force._ **

He adjusts his grip on the book, resolutely ignoring the scar that stands out on his palm as he begins to read carefully.

_While markings and enchanted trinkets can be used to form tangible bonds between friends, deeper magics may be sought out by pairings who feel that they are truly destined to remain together for the entirety of their lives. For some couples, traditions such as marriage may simply be the beginning of a commitment to one another._

_These couples may feel that other methods are the most appropriate way to bind them. In these cases an offering of blood will need to be made, willingly given for the sake of the lover. Different techniques in mixing blood have been tested throughout the centuries, some with more success than others, though it is still unknown if this can be attributed to the method or the blood. In cases where two souls are truly meant to be joined, success can almost always be expected._

Caleb continues to read, suddenly far more interested in the book than he had previously been. He’s beginning to think he’s done with any relevance the book could have for him, but at the very end there is a small chapter about breaking the bonds that held two souls together. Several methods are presented, most with grim results for one person or both, and the final section of the chapter is a particularly foreboding one.

**_Death._ **

_In the event of one soul moving on to another plane, the connection between the two souls can be severed. It is unclear if the manner of death or intent of the dead matters in breaking the connection, though contact with lingering departed souls has suggested that they intended to break the bond with their death. In many cases of breaking the grief of the survivor is only magnified, but in cases of unexpected death the lack of a surviving connection can make moving on easier for the survivor._

_Regardless of the action taken to sever a connection between two souls, it has become clear that a sacrifice must be made. Caution should be taken, and it is advised that these methods only be attempted in dire situations._

Caleb sits back in his chair, setting the book down on his lap.

It was an inelegant solution. Surely he had more things to live for, more he wanted to do with his life. He could not abandon the rest of his friends.

And yet.

The potential for Fjord to lead a more fulfilling life in his wake almost made him consider his own sacrifice worth it.

 _An offering of blood will need to be made, willingly given for the sake of the lover._  

Caleb shuts the book and leaves the library. Nott is still sitting up when he arrives at the inn, finishing her drink and standing as he walks in.

“Our room’s this way,” she says, looking up at Caleb with an apology in her eyes, and Caleb just shakes his head. It isn’t as if he’d been expecting Fjord to room with him anyway.

His bed feels far too big, and his sleep that night is restless.

 

* * *

 

He is standing on the beaches of Nicodranas, sun shining down and warming every inch of him that it can touch. He is dressed down, coat and book holsters abandoned in the sand behind him. His shoes are off. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, bandages discarded too, and he can feel a cool breeze against his bare arms.

Fjord stands in the water ahead of him, up to his knees as waves lap at his legs. Caleb can see the broad expanse of Fjord’s back, bare and green and, he knows, soft where scars didn’t mar his flesh. Still, even Caleb thought his scars were beautiful.

He calls out to Fjord, but the crashing of the waves around them swallows the sound. He takes a step forward, and just as he does Fjord does the same. Caleb keeps walking and so does Fjord until Caleb has to stop, Fjord nearly neck-deep in the water.

He keeps trying to call out, but the waves are getting stronger now. They’re being sucked out to sea, and Caleb only sees a flash of bright yellow eyes as Fjord turns to look at him before a wave crashes over his head.

He doesn’t emerge from the water.

Caleb dives down, swimming frantically, and suddenly the sand under his feet is gone. He is floating in nothingness, trying to find which way up could be, but his normally impeccable sense of direction has left him.

_Let go._

He keeps trying to swim, looking frantically around for Fjord. He has to be somewhere, Caleb can’t let him drown--

_Let go._

The air in his lungs leaves him in a rush, bubbles swirling around his head, and the lungful of water that he sucks in burns--

_Let go._

His hands, both cut, sting in the salty water. His blood clouds the water around him, turning from green-blue to murky brown-red--

_Let go._

And then Fjord is there, eyes shining, taking Caleb’s face in his hands. He looks so incredibly sad, so lost and alone, and Caleb knows he needs to get them out of here, to take them to somewhere dry and safe, but then Fjord is leaning in and pressing his mouth to Caleb’s, and it’s a kiss goodbye--

_Let go._

Untethered he floats, until nothing is left for him to comprehend.

Down, into darkness, Caleb sinks.

 

* * *

 

“Breakfast!” 

Caleb wakes with a start, sitting straight up in bed, blankets pooled around his waist. He rubs at his eyes as Nott makes her way into their room, carrying a tray.

“You were up late last night, so I let you sleep in,” she says, setting the tray down on the small desk that came with their room. “Sorry, I already ate the bacon. But there’s plenty of eggs. And toast!”

Caleb can’t help a small, fond smile. His dream lurks in the back of his mind, the sensation of water filling his lungs as he sinks never quite leaving him until they’ve eaten and packed and set about on their business for the day.

 

* * *

 

They’re at the temple as soon as they can manage, the same priestess from the night before ushering them inside this time. 

“Now,” she says as she leads them into a small hall of worship, “what seems to be the problem with your friend?”

“He’s had a spell put on him,” Nott says.

“His memories are gone!” Jester cries.

“Well, not all of them,” Beau clarifies. “Just some.”

“All of his memories of Caleb,” Caduceus adds.

“And who is Caleb?” the priestess asks, looking between all of them. All hands point to Caleb, and he raises his hand, palm facing the priestess.

“That would be me.”

“And the one without his memories?”

Fjord raises his hand.

The priestess beckons to them both, and they glance at each other before following her.

She leads them through a doorway off the worship room and down another hallway. They enter a small chamber, with a high ceiling and stained glass allowing plenty of morning sunlight into the room. Inside there is a desk and chair, and a small, hunched humanoid figure is lighting a censer. Smoke curls up around them and the priestess approaches them, bending a whispering something. The smaller figure nods before turning around. The High Priestess, an old human woman with bright green eyes and grey hair, smiles up at them.

“Come in,” she beckons them forward and Caleb’s glance shifts to Fjord. He looks unsure, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Caleb wants to take his hand so badly, wants to soothe Fjord’s concern and assure him that everything is going to be okay.

“And what seems to be the problem?” she asks, smiling up at the two of them.

“We had a run in,” Caleb explains as Fjord looks at him. “With a hag. My...companion was hit with a spell, we believe it to be a memory charm.”

The High Priestess nods.

“He seems to only have forgotten me,” Caleb continues, wringing his hands. “I am no different than a stranger to him now. I have some...previous experience with memory spells. I understand that tampering with them is dangerous, removing them even more so. I...We were hoping you may be able to aid us.”

The High Priestess’ smile has faded into a focused look, and she seems to be eyeing them more carefully now as she approaches them. She stands in front of Fjord, raising her hands toward him.

“May I?” she asks. Fjord looks to Caleb, panic evident in his eyes, and Caleb just nods, trying to reassure him. Fjord turns back to the High Priestess, bending down so she can take his face in her hands. Her palms glow with divine energy and she closes her eyes.

The bond between them--because that’s what Caleb knows it to be know, a link between their souls connecting them to each other and gods why hadn’t he figured it out before--almost seems to hum. He feels a tugging sensation within him, as if someone is pulling at the bond. Testing its strength. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, and in spite of the plans Caleb has already made in the back of his mind he still fears that it will break.

“You are...connected,” the High Priestess says in a soft voice. Her brow is furrowed in concentration. “But there is a corruption. A poison that blocks one from reaching the other. It is...unlike anything I have seen. This bond.”

Caleb swallows hard. The priestess watches from her place near the smoking censer, eyes narrowed.

“It was an impulsive decision,” he says in a low voice, his accent thick. “But I do not regret it.”

There is another tug at the bond and Caleb has to resist the urge to rub at his chest, just below his ribcage, where the pressure is greatest.

“Could the connection be severed?” the priestess asks. Caleb’s heart reaches his throat, unbidden dread creeping into him before the High Priestess shakes her head.

“It would be unwise. I would not even know how to go about that. No, the poison must be cleared.”

Her brow furrows further, the tips of her fingers pressing into Fjord’s cheeks.

Caleb feels a sharp tug at the bond. Fjord makes a faint noise of pain and, without thinking, Caleb reaches out and takes his hand. He closes his eyes.

It’s faint at first, but he can see it. A red line, connecting their hearts. It’s tangled in the middle, balled up with thick, dark arcane energy. Whatever spell the hag had cast, whatever she intended to do, had manifested itself here between them. A knot. A cancer. He wants to reach out, to rip it with his bare hands, anything to stop Fjord from hurting. He would sever the bond if that was what it took, though he’s sure now that he truly does not want to survive such a thing.

But he would do it for Fjord’s sake.

Perhaps that’s what needs to be done.

A swirl of divine energy travels down Fjord’s end of the bond. It tangles with the dark energy, attempting to dispel the magic, but finds little success.

Caleb has never wished more for a patron, for a well of divine knowledge and power that he could tap as he pleased. There was nothing in his books that could help here. No memorized spell could be extended to aid the High Priestess. There was nothing he could do--

_Focus, Widogast._

_Let go._

The empty space within him, where Fjord is meant to be, rips open further with an agony so acute that Caleb nearly screams. Fjord squeezes his hand and Caleb squeezes back just as hard. He focuses on the bond. On Fjord. On how desperately he needs Fjord to be okay, to come back to him, to remember.

Along his end of the bond, a spark. A flash of light. Caleb focuses on it, on Fjord, on what he needs Fjord to know.

_The first time they locked eyes over a table in a tavern. None of them trusted each other, that much was certain. But there was something there, the potential for something great, and Caleb has always believed in potential._

_Traveling together. Talking. The jokes get easier, they start to work better together. Their little group begins to feel less temporary. They pry his heart open without even knowing it, forcing it to soften. It’s almost feels like a relief when it does._

_It feels as if things are just beginning to click before Fjord and the others are taken, and in that moment Caleb realizes that he will do anything to save these people. These friends. This fragile hope of a new family that Caleb will not even admit to himself exists yet. Freeing them from those cells feels like the greatest victory Caleb has won in a very long time._

_They travel so many miles together. They grow closer day by day. But Caleb still wants, stupidly and selfishly, for more. He catches Fjord looking sometimes while he browses for books in a shop or he comes back to himself from looking through Frumpkin’s eyes or he traces the rim of his cup with his fingertips late at night as they finish their drinks. Caleb catches Fjord looking and wonders if Fjord wants too._

_He doesn’t know who moves first, but they move and they’re kissing and everything is awkward and rushed and perfect. Caleb is nearly frantic, kissing as if this is the only chance he will have to pour everything he needs to say into it, but Fjord keeps kissing and kissing and kissing and Caleb hopes he never has to stop._

_A slow shift happens between them, until they stop thinking of themselves as friends and begin to think of themselves as lovers._

_Fjord reminds Caleb that he loves him every morning after he wakes and every evening before he sleeps and Caleb commits every syllable to memory, hoping against hope that he will never forget what that sounds like._

With every thought the spark grows. Tendrils of light, of love, of memory stretch out from Caleb’s heart and travel down the bond. The knot is a vicious tangle, pulsing with a dark energy as Caleb’s light approaches it, and for the briefest of moments he is sure that this will not work.

And then his light mixes with the light of the High Priestess. And then the dark energy finally gives way. And with a gut-wrenching sensation that is unlike anything Caleb has ever felt before, the darkness is ripped from the bond and consumed by the light. And in that moment their connection is whole again.

The sudden wave of _feeling_ nearly knocks him off his feet. It is a rush of Fjord back into him and himself back into Fjord, broken parts rejoining into two wholes, and the relief is staggering.

The image of their bond, finally whole and shining, is the most beautiful thing Caleb has ever seen.

And then he plummets back to himself, eyes flying open as Fjord rips his hand from Caleb’s and throws his arms around him. They sink to their knees together.

“I’m sorry,” Fjord says against Caleb’s hair, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you, how could I ever-”

Caleb shushes him gently, hands running over Fjord’s back. “You didn’t truly forget. Even when you didn’t know, the memories were still there.”

Fjord is pressing kisses to every part of Caleb that he can reach, taking Caleb’s face in his hands and moving from forehead to temple to cheeks.

With a light cough from the priestess, they both seem to remember where they are. Fjord stops, his lips so close to Caleb’s that leaning a few inches forward could close that distance between them--

But then Fjord pulls away. He helps Caleb to his feet, and despite it still being the morning Caleb already feels like he needs to go back to bed. Whatever he had done, it had taken a massive amount of energy. The High Priestess does not seem to be faring much better. She is sitting in her plush desk chair, the priestess standing dutifully next to her.

“Thank you,” Fjord says sincerely as Caleb leans against him. “Please, if...if there’s a sum of money we can pay or a favor we can do for you--”

The High Priestess shakes her head, giving a dismissive wave of her hand.

"All I ask is that you keep whatever connection that’s between you safe,” she says, her voice a great deal softer than before. “It is unique, and any power strong enough to break it is to be feared and avoided." 

A slightly more foreboding answer than Caleb was expecting, but all he can really focus on right now is Fjord’s arm around him keeping him upright.

The priestess escorts them back down the hall to their friends. A collection box sits at the end of the hallway, and Fjord tosses a bit of gold inside as they pass. The priestess looks pleased.

“Caleb!” Jester exclaims the moment she sees them. “What happened?”

“Are you okay?” Nott asks and Caleb nods. He’s exhausted but he can’t stop smiling, his relief only magnified by Fjord feeling the same thing, and when Nott sees his face she relaxes a bit.

“So...it worked?” Beau pipes up, looking at Fjord. “Your head’s fixed?”

Fjord nods, his grip on Caleb’s waist tightening just a bit. “Think so. Everything seems to be back up there, anyway.”

“You look like you need to lay down, Caleb,” Nott says, concern lacing her voice, and Jester snickers.

“I’m sure Fjord would love to lay him down.”

“Ha ha,” Caleb replies dryly.

“He does look like he needs a nap,” Caduceus says, “and I think we had some errands we wanted to run in town anyway.”

The others nod and Caleb feels just so terribly fond of them in that moment. They begin to make their way out of the temple, Jester pulling both Fjord and Caleb into the biggest hug she can once they’re outside.

“I’m just so happy!” she says, squeezing them tight, and Caleb gives her a little pat on the back. “You’ve both been so _sad_ but now it’s all better, right?”

“It is,” Fjord says, and Caleb lets out a breath he feels he’s been holding in for days.

 

* * *

 

Fjord doesn’t let go of Caleb until they’re in his room, and even then his hands only leave Caleb after setting him down on the bed. Caleb grabs for Fjord, trying to pull him down and get him to join him on the bed, but Fjord gently resists with a little chuckle. Instead he eases Caleb’s coat down off his shoulders, carefully folding it and setting aside before getting to work on his holsters.

“Just gimme a minute, sweetheart,” he says in a low, affectionate voice.

Caleb’s heart sings at the endearment, and he’s tired enough that he’s willing to lay back and let Fjord take care of him. He feels his shoes slip off his feet, turns his head to watch as Fjord strips down to a bare shirt and pants before joining him in the bed.

Caleb’s arms are around Fjord’s shoulders in an instant, pulling him close. He tilts his head a bit and leans in and Fjord meets him so easily. It’s effortless, the way they fit together.

Caleb can’t help the soft sound that escapes him as Fjord’s mouth meets his. It’s a sound of near-desperation, and it’s only in that moment that Caleb truly realizes what he almost lost.

Neither of them have much energy to give, but the need still burns between them. It’s been far too long since they got a chance to do this, even longer since they had a proper room and bed after being in the forest for so long. It will need to be short and sweet, but Caleb thinks that’s about all he can handle at the moment.

Fumbling hands work at their clothes, then their smallclothes, and then they are naked. Flesh against flesh. Fjord’s eyes are wide, taking in every inch of Caleb as he moves to straddle him. Pinned between Fjord and the bed, Caleb finally feels safe. It feels like coming home after a long journey.

“Beautiful,” Fjord murmurs, hands running down Caleb’s chest, claws digging in just enough to leave little pink lines. “Always so beautiful for me…”

Caleb doesn’t have a response, but he doesn’t seem to need one. Fjord leans in before a clever reply can come to his lips and then they are kissing, long and languid and deep, tongues sliding together with a sound that is nearly obscene.

It doesn’t take much time before they’re both hard, and Caleb is about to reach down before Fjord takes his wrist in hand, guiding it to rest on the pillow under his head.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, voice thick and sweet as honey, and Caleb has never been one to disagree with anything Fjord says in that tone.

Fjord’s cock is hard against his. He reaches down, wrapping a hand around both of them, and the sigh they both give at the sensation is one of both pleasure and relief.

“Fjord,” Caleb moans, “gods--”

Fjord silences him with another kiss, stroking them both slowly, though they both find it hard to keep that pace for very long. Within minutes Caleb’s hips are moving, craving more stimulation, and Fjord’s hips move to meet the rhythm Caleb sets.

Caleb watches them fuck Fjord’s hand together, and the sight is nearly too much for him. He grips the sheets under him, knuckles white, little moans escaping with each slide of Fjord’s cock against his own. Fjord sits back just a bit and Caleb nearly whines at the contact, but with the way Fjord continues to move Caleb is sure he just wants to enjoy this show.

“Fjord,” Caleb says desperately, searching for something. Something more. The little bit of encouragement he needs to get over the beautiful agony that is the edge of orgasm.

“I’ve got you,” Fjord murmurs. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Never again. I’m yours, Caleb, all yours. Come on, darling. Come for me…”

With a choked cry Caleb feels himself go still, pleasure overwhelming him as Fjord’s hand and cock bring him over the edge. He shudders, hips jerking, not stopping until overstimulation forces him to ease Fjord’s hand off him with a low whine.

Fjord gives him a moment, allowing him to catch his breath and come back down from his high. He looks up when he feels ready to, meeting Fjord’s eyes as he takes Fjord’s cock in hand and strokes it.

“Your turn, _mein Liebe._ Show me how good it feels.”

“Caleb,” Fjord moans and Caleb doesn’t think his name has ever sounded so good. “Caleb, please-”

“I am here. I have you, Fjord. Let go, _kostbar_ , remind me how pretty you are when you come.”

Fjord bites his bottom lip, hips stuttering. He’s a perfect picture of lust, pupils blown wide and a blush darkening his face and chest, his cock hard and leaking. He thrusts into Caleb’s hand once, twice, three times, and then with a low growl he finally comes. Caleb can feel a low hum running through the bond between them, an echo of Fjord’s pleasure.

Fjord falls forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of Caleb’s head, claws digging into his pillow. Caleb pulls Fjord into a kiss with his free hand and Fjord goes willingly, continuing to thrust lazily into Caleb’s hand before he’s finally satisfied.

They lay together, breathing hard between slow kisses. When Fjord finally moves Caleb can’t help but feel the loss, but luckily Fjord isn’t out of bed for long. He returns to Caleb, wet rag in hand, cleaning them both off as quickly as he can before laying back down again. Fjord pulls the covers up over them, brings Caleb close to his chest.

In the wake of Caleb’s haze of pleasure, it’s almost difficult to discern if he’s still dreaming or not. Is Fjord really here? Is everything okay? Everything feels so real, so right, but the doubt still creeps into the back of his mind. What if this is all just a fantasy?

Waking up alone at this point may actually kill him.

“Hey,” Fjord says, his lips against the top of Caleb’s head. “Whatever’s making you feel like that, stop it.”

Caleb huffs out a laugh, running his hand over the back of Fjord’s head.

“It will pass,” he says. His eyes close. “I just...can’t believe it worked.”

“Whatever you did,” Fjord says, “it was incredible. I’ve never...felt anything like that. From you, I mean. Since the blood pact stuff, I know...we’re kinda in tune now.”

That was certainly one way of putting it.

“But even when you use your magic,” Fjord continues, “it never...feels like that.”

“The High Priestess had a hand in it too,” Caleb says carefully. “I would never have been able to do such a thing on my own--”

Fjord shakes his head, cutting Caleb’s words off with a smile and a sigh of disbelief.

“I couldn’t even tell you what she did. All I felt was you. _You_ were what pulled me outta there. Felt like I was drowning and then you were there to help me up.”

“What did it feel like?” Caleb asks, voice barely above a whisper, and Fjord grimaces.

“Fuckin’ awful. Like I was gonna be sick all the time. I…” he adjusts their position then, nuzzling into the crook of Caleb’s neck, and Caleb pulls Fjord as close to him as he can. Fjord’s pain is palpable, an ache that Caleb needs to soothe.

“I can remember what it felt like to not know you,” he whispers, voice so low Caleb nearly misses what he says.

“Fjord…”

“It was like...I knew that I knew you. But there was just nothin’ there. I can’t believe I could just...forget you, Caleb.” His grip on Caleb tightens, though he’s careful to keep his nails from digging in. “You know I’d never want that, right? To forget you?”

“Of course,” Caleb says, the ache growing stronger for just a moment before beginning to subside. “Just as I would never want to forget you. I trust you would do the same for me, if I were the one-”

“Absolutely,” Fjord cuts him off.

“Then there is nothing to discuss. We have each other again. That is enough.”

Fjord nods, a hand moving up from Caleb’s waist to rest over his chest, just above his heart.

“You have no idea how I’ve missed you,” Caleb murmurs, voice thick with emotion.

“Can’t imagine,” Fjord replies. “Think you had it even worse than me.”

“Perhaps.”

Caleb wasn’t about to argue with that. Being the only keeper of their memories had been torture, plain and simple. Every time Fjord looked at him without any recognition in his eyes, Caleb’s heart had broken.

But he’d fixed them. Somehow. More research was needed, and Caleb knew this town was not equipped with the kind of knowledge he sought. For now he was content to lay with Fjord in his arms, eyes closing and breath evening until the two of them drifted off together.

“I love you,” Fjord whispers just before Caleb goes under, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Minor content warnings for mentions of throwing up towards the beginning of the fic, and implied suicidal ideation towards the end. There is a happy ending to the fic, and no graphic details are given. 
> 
> Comments, criticisms, kudos are all appreciated. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


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